


I Am No Bird; and No Net Ensnares Me

by VoxTenebrarum



Category: No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Development, M/M, Reunions, on-going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 05:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoxTenebrarum/pseuds/VoxTenebrarum
Summary: Shion has spent years working incredibly hard on the rebuilding of No. 6. But he's trapped in the past, desperate for a promise to be fulfilled.
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	I Am No Bird; and No Net Ensnares Me

**Author's Note:**

> Ongoing story. My interpretation of the reunion. Based on the manga, not the anime.

The room was as dusty as usual, for some reason the place refused to remain clean. No matter how many times Shion swept and dusted every nook and cranny, there was always a thin layer of dirt covering everything. Originally he had chalked it up to one of the minor annoyances of having so many books around, but eventually he had come to see a rather aesthetic quality in the little particles that danced through the air. They added a certain ambiance to the empty silence that more often than not filled this little room in recent times.

Four years now. Four years of solitude in this place. Four years of tranquil yet lonely nights in this bunker that was once shared. Granted he didn’t spend all his nights here, rather he hopped between sleeping in this bed, his mother’s bakery, and the couch of the reconstructural committee office. But he had to admit to himself (more than once) that he spent the majority of his nights in the place.

Although some might call it an unhealthy obsession with the past, Shion couldn’t see it like that. To him, staying in this cramped little room, even when he had the option of living somewhere with central heating and a shower, was right. This was his home, or at least as close as he could get to it. Without Nezumi around, everything always felt a little off. A little wrong. So to keep himself from getting too homesick for a person that hadn’t been seen in years, he would return to the rubble of Westside most nights.

This was one of those nights, or indeed early mornings. He hadn’t slept well again: the nightmares that plagued him since the fall of No. 6 were strong and relentless. Most nights he could get away with waking up a few times and drifting right back off to sleep, naturally drowsy person that he was. But the occasional night, the dreams were too disturbing to allow for an immediate return of slumber. 

So instead he sat up, waiting for the day to begin, reading by the feeble light of a candle. 

Jane Eyre was heavy in his hands, with its many pages and ornate hardcover, tempting him to put it down despite his interest in the story. He’d read it before - more than once - but it was one of his favourites so he had returned to it yet again. In fact, Shion had read most of the books in his little sanctuary by now, voraciously devouring them in his free time, letting the stories transport him out of his own stressful life after a long day. 

His choice in novel this morning was purely for comfort’s sake. The dreams of the night had left him shaky and tired, hardly prepared for yet another day of planning, organizing, rebuilding, and leading. He had never pegged himself as a chief of staff, but the committee had voted on it and he had won. So loyal to democracy as he was, he took up the task with as much fervor as possible. And so far he had done a good job, managing to get the city to an essentially functional state in a fraction of the time they had all assumed it would take. 

Now all that was left to do was tighten up the governing body and formalize a more useful economic system. The coin and goods exchanges of Westside had hardly melded well with the digitalized economy of No. 6, so a compromise was in the process of being established. Other than that, the city ran almost like a full fledged society now, with the governmental processes being mostly looked after by the reconstructural committee for the moment. But in a few months even that temporary measure would be done away with: the voting system was going to be implemented and there would be a public government elected as well.

Once that happened, Shion wondered what he would do. Certainly the reconstructural committee would not disband, there was still work to be done, but their need for a leader would most likely dissolve. And when that happened, what would he do? Would he stay on as a member of the committee? Run for office? Join a lab? None of these options sparked anything in him, so he had put off the question for some time. But the time for decisiveness was looming closer and closer, and still he had no strong opinions on the matter.

With a frustrated sigh, he turned his attention back to Mr. Rochester, letting the story consume him yet again. Before long he was smiling fondly at the characters, delighting in Jane’s patience and Rochester’s arrogance, getting wrapped up in the drama. His fingers skimmed over the page as he read, feeling the soft worn texture of the novel under his touch. Before long he was completely unaware of the outside world, wholly engrossed in the story before him.

“Still freeloading at my house, huh?” 

The noise startled Shion back to reality. For a moment all he could think was that there was an intruder in his home, which never happened as this was a hidden bunker that no one but him (and Nezumi) knew about, so it was particularly frightening. But after a millisecond, the voice sounded familiar. So familiar.

He struggled to believe that it was really Nezumi, there was no way. At this point, after so many years, he had resigned himself to not seeing Nezumi for a much longer time to come. And yet that melodious voice sounded just like the boy he’d once known.

As these thoughts raced through his head, he stood up instinctively, letting the precious book fall from his hands to the stone floor with a thud. His eyes shot up to see a figure outlined in the doorway, a dark shadow against a grey background, unrecognizable for a moment, but within a few seconds his sight adjusted and he could make out just enough. The hair was longer, the chest slightly broader, but there was no doubt that this was Nezumi

Immediately his eyes began to water, tears quickly forming on his lashes as he squinted against the flood of emotions overtaking him. He was at once sad, happy, relieved, confused, and surprised; all for what reason he couldn’t explain. Rather than merely being overjoyed at his friend’s return, it was as if the floodgates on his emotions had just been released. Everything came once, and it did so very quickly indeed. He tried to step forward to embrace him or at least get nearer him, but all he could do was shift a bit and raise his hand, as if reaching out across the room for the figure in the doorway.

“Nezumi!... I... Is it really you?... I” He desperately wanted to tell him how lonely it had been without him, how much he missed him, how happy he was to see him. But all of his words died prematurely on his lips, refusing to be spoken aloud. A fear niggled inside him, that perhaps Nezumi had changed, that things were different now. Although to him Nezumi was timeless and his feelings for him endless, he was worried that it wasn’t mutual. So rather than being his true and honest self, all that he could say was, “Welcome back.” 

Nezumi’s face was barely visible in the weak candle light, but even still Shion could see his expression morph from one of neutrality into a slight sneer. His eyebrow quirked at Shion’s behaviour briefly, his eyes twinkling with mockery.

Suddenly, Shion was overcome with a sense of shame. His thoughts fired rapidly one after another; asking questions mostly, but receiving no answers. He worried that Nezumi has legitimately upset with him for camping out in their - his - old room. The old Nezumi wouldn’t have cared, might have even found it funny, but it was suddenly catching up with Shion that he hadn’t seen this person in years. The boy had travelled all over the place, presumably picking up new personality traits and opinions. Maybe Shion was just an annoying memory now. 

At this, Shion looked away, a blush crawling up over his cheeks. It was childish and stupid, he thought, a terrible way to greet an old friend now that he was a full-fledged adult.

As he looked away, an unexpected breeze rustled his hair and fingertips came to rest under his chin. A sweet breath ghosted against his face, smelling of herbs and spices. Shion turned in surprise, only to find Nezumi’s face mere inches from his own. He hadn’t heard a sound as the boy had approached, remembering too late his truly impressive stealth, and nearly yelped at the sudden sight of grey eyes staring blankly into his own.

“Oh so what, you’re coy now?” Nezumi’s voice rang brash and judgemental, “If you’re not going to say what you think at least make it something witty. ‘Welcome back’ is meaningless.” 

For a moment Shion was stunned by his tone, it was nothing like how he had always imagined seeing Nezumi again would be, “No I-... I can’t just-...” he stammered, trying to formulate a sentence that would explain all his trepidations and confusion without getting too over emotional, He was terrified of scaring Nezumi off with a scene, especially since he wasn’t sure what had changed over the years, “I was just trying to be polite.” He finally settled on, averting his eyes again in defeat.

For a moment silence abounded. Shion had expected a quick retort, something sharp and biting, but instead there was just silence. Finally the fingers under his chin moved to cup his cheek, slowly turning him to face Nezumi again. The expression he found there was much different than before. 

Grey eyes, heavy with exhaustion and emotion, peered thoughtfully into his own. Nezumi’s countenance spoke of affection and gentleness, sadness and relief, concern and sincerity. He felt the same bundle of contradictions that Shion had, it was written plainly on his face, he too was worried that things had changed. But as their eyes locked, both recognized the other’s position and the other’s fear, and both realized that whatever had changed didn’t matter one iota. 

“You idiot.” Nezumi’s voice was much softer now, a gentle echo of his previous statement, “You should know better, I don’t care about that garbage.” His mouth twisted into a smirk; sardonic, leering, and yet still somehow gentle, “What do you really want to say.” 

Utterly relieved, the tears started to finally tip over the edge of Shion’s eyes, cascading down his cheeks in little streams. He willed his thoughts to remain focused on what Nezumi had said, fighting the urge to break down into a weeping fit. He only cried once when Nezumi departed years ago, and it had not been enough, years of repressed tears were welling up beneath his eyelids. Finally he managed to croak out, in a shaking voice, “I missed you... So much.” the words calmed him, releasing some of his tension, so he went on, “I would open the door and wait for you... for-for hours... I was worried that-”

Before he could keep talking, Nezumi tilted his head up, briefly examining the tear stained cheeks and the huge watery eyes. He chuckled under his breath, learning closer still until Shion’s skin buzzed with their proximity, “You really are an airhead, there was no need to get all fussed about it. I told you I was coming back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah but-”

Whatever he was going to say next was swallowed by Nezumi’s lips. The kiss was chaste, but lingering, a feathery light conversation via skin. Shion melted into it, hands reaching to grab Nezumi’s shirt with urgent strength, eyes closing as he leaned up to better feel chapped lips against his. Then as suddenly as it began it ended, Nezumi pulled away a fraction of an inch.

“Still a terrible kisser, I see.” His words were insulting but his tone indulgent, breath fluttering in warm puffs against his companion’s mouth.

Shion burned red with embarrassment. For him the kiss had been perfect, sublime, breathtaking. But of course it was just like Nezumi to stick his nose into what could have been a momentous occasion in Shion’s life. He turned away, fidgeting absentmindedly with the front of Nezumi’s shirt, trying to hide his deep blush. 

The hand on his cheek easily pushed him to face narrowed grey eyes again, a look of amusement clearly accompanying their laughing gaze. Nezumi spoke barely above a whisper now, his words soaked in honey, “It’s kind of flattering though, to know that you haven’t gotten any practice. Waiting for me, your majesty?” He hummed low in his throat as Shion bristled at the accurate accusation, “I’ll take that as a yes. You know it’s a good thing you’re cute or this inexperience of yours might be a deal breaker.”

Shion nearly managed to pursue a line of questioning in that direction, but as before his protests were quickly devoured. Nezumi closed the tiny distance between their mouths without warning, aggressively plying Shion’s lips open.

For a moment Shion did not respond, too shocked by what was happening to his mouth to know what to do. But as Nezumi’s tongue and lips worked powerfully against his, a haze seemed to fall over him blocking his conscious thoughts from forming. In their place instincts drove him to move in tandem with Nezumi’s machinations, pushing to feel every last sensation he could manage. 

Nezumi’s hand came up to fist in Shion’s hair, pulling the boy’s head back sharply as he did so. Shion let out a gasp, opening himself up to the further invasion of Nezumi’s tongue and exposing his pale neck. Without giving either of them any time to breathe, the taller boy swung an arm around his partner’s waist dragging them closer still, until there wasn’t an ounce of space left. His mouth moved to Shion’s neck biting and licking, leaving it a bruised and slick mess. 

Finally, when both were struggling to breathe, Nezumi relented. He pulled away just enough to inhale, but still close enough to feel warm breath against his face. Shion looked up at him with darkened eyes, his face glazed over with lust. His lips were still parted, begging to be kissed again, shiny and red from their escapades, and his face flushed a soft pink. Beyond inviting.

After studying him for a second, Nezumi laughed quietly, “Some virgin. I go a little further than a peck and you’re bursting at the seams.” 

Far too dazed to feel attacked, Shion responded breathlessly, “What do you mean?”

Nezumi couldn’t help but laugh aloud, “I’m saying you’re horny, Shion! But makes sense, you’ve never gotten any in your life.” 

Taking a moment to gather his estranged thoughts, Shion tried to consider this. Had he been wanting sex? It was hard to say. His life kept him so busy that by the time he returned home he was usually too burned out to even consider the possibility of doing anything with himself. Of course he had experimented with it in the past, they were told to when he was in No. 6 as part of their ‘physical development’. He enjoyed it in the way most people do, but found the experience confusing and counterintuitive. In retrospect, he thought that perhaps he just hadn’t been thinking in the right vein, perhaps he had just been too clinical--as was his tendency.

Nezumi’s amused voice broke through his thoughts, “Well too bad, it’s not happening. Not right away anyway.” He interrupted himself briefly to peck Shion’s lips one last time before pulling away entirely, “Besides, we haven’t even caught up yet. Can’t have Your Highness losing his virginity to a stranger, can we?”

Shion marveled at the easy way which Nezumi talked about sex. His whole childhood, sexuality had been taboo, discussed in medical terms and nothing more, occasionally alluded to by Safu. Even now, sex was so far removed from his life that to speak of it seemed awkward in one way or another. So Nezumi’s off-hand remarks unbalanced him, opening up new avenues of thought that he had never considered before.

But at the moment these ideas weren’t important, Nezumi was right. Despite his beet red, burning face; Shion had to refocus. He shook the distractions from his mind - with significant difficulty - and turned his still hazy eyes on grey steel. They needed to learn about each other again, bridge their years of separation. Shion breathed deeply for a moment, and then dived in.

He told Nezumi of the huge changes they had made to No. 6. Nowadays they called the city Elyurian, after the goddess whose permission their existence depended on. They built houses, perhaps not providing a Chronos level of comfort, but certainly more humane than the hovel of the old West District. Plain yet sturdy apartment buildings littered the ruins of the Westside, springing up like lotus flowers from the wreckage of the slum. They were not beautiful or sleek like the buildings which still stood around the Moondrop, but they were practical: providing shelter from the elements and all the basic necessities of life.

This practicality was the new modus operandi of Elyurian. Spearheaded by Shion and some other like-minded individuals, the reconstructural committee was determined to make the successor of No. 6 a place of practical inclusion, with little emphasis placed on luxury or extravagant beauty, and every resource available put towards the necessary and humanitarian. 

Four years had certainly not been enough time to accomplish everything they had set out to do, but most citizens agreed that changes made had been swiftly and effectively undertaken. Fewer people were homeless, more families had food on the table, and most lived better lives. The statistics weren’t perfect by a long shot - crime and discomfort still abounded - but they were certainly better than the old lies of No. 6’s Census Bureau. At least these statistics actually included the entire population.

Schools awaited construction teams in the West District, only on hold until the funding allowed for it and the plans were finalized. Two public bath houses had been set up in the West to provide sanitary means of washing, even for those who had not yet managed to find a place to live, as well as public wells that partially tackled the drinking water issue. Several shuttles ran constantly between hospitals in the city center and the outskirts of town, since there was no money or resources available to actually build a medical center for the West District. Farm lands were expanded and opened up to public use, allowing for a better circulation of native foods. This meant Elyurian could provide more food to its citizens without utilizing much international trade or indeed many of its own public resources.

But Shion’s favourite development (in fact a pet project of his) was to plan and even begin the construction of public libraries in every district. They provided access to ebooks and basic computers, some even including attractions such as small theatres and dance halls. And all of this without cost as wealthy citizens had donated enough funds to Shion’s campaign to pay for nearly all of it. 

The whole thing had been a smashing success. Even now, as Shion recounted the events, his face lit up with a proud smile. 

Finally he held his tongue, knowing there was more to say - so much more to say - but also desperate to hear what Nezumi had been doing for so many long months. He quieted himself, sitting up attentively with ears at the ready to receive anything at all, because knowing his old friend any number of dramatic events could have happened in their time apart. Nezumi had been turned away and contemplative for the most part as Shion spoke; even now he didn’t look up.

Eyes cast downwards, bemused and complex, he took a deep breath, “You’ve done a lot for this damn place. A hell of a lot.” He smirked, something unsaid hiding in his words, “Good thing too cause I don’t know if anyone else would’ve.” 

Shion shook his head fondly, “I’ve had lots of help. Kaneda and Ren have practically done all the planning and Aoi is a genius with budgets. Honestly without everyone else I’d be pretty useless.” 

“Yeah but without you do you think any of these idiots would be trying to fix things? Face it Shion, without your naive little cheerleader act this place would have turned into a hell hole.” 

Shion balked for a moment at this quasi-compliment. Although it was tempered with insults, it was still one of the nicest things Nezumi had ever said to him. He fought the urge to lean over and hug him or squeeze his hand or even kiss him. Something told him that it wasn’t allowed, that he could only wait for Nezumi to initiate things or he’d scare him off. 

“Thank you. I don’t agree but it makes me feel kind of important.” An inescapable smile tugged at his lips, brightening his face to solar intensity. 

With a slight twitch at the honesty displayed across from him, Nezumi looked away, unable to retain eye contact with such authenticity. He mumbled something about how ‘you should just believe people smarter than you’ under his breath, worrying away at his left thumb uncomfortably. When he finally responded, the words lurched over his tongue, “Ha... Yeah. Well. Whatever. I’m just saying that most people are pretty selfish. You’re just too dense to realize you need to look out for yourself more than anyone else.” 

Without warning, Shion’s silvery laugh burst out between them. It filled up the limited space in the little bunker like water, drowning Nezumi in mere seconds. His steely eyes widened in confusion (and maybe even fear), and he sat up suddenly, trying to understand this outburst.

“I missed you so much. I missed this so much.” Shion’s voice tinkled prettily against another wave of laughter. He swiped at the moisture forming on his eyelashes, mouth stretched into a wide smile, eyes crinkled into in joyful slits. Then, unaware of the power in his eyes, he caught cold grey up in warm crimson, tangling their gazes into an intimate stare. “I love you.”

Silence for a long moment, Nezumi froze in place with his eyes still locked with Shion, hands forming into tight fists. Shion too blinked incredulously into the stillness, just as shocked by his words as Nezumi appeared to be.

Then, in a flash of anxiety, Shion’s thoughts raced at lightspeed. Why had he said that? Did he mean that? Had he frightened Nezumi off for good? Would he ever see him again? His mouth opened and closed a few times, a fish out of water trying to find the words to fix what he was almost certain he’d broken, “I... um... I... uh. It’s just-.. hm.” his fragmented sentences, trailed into nothing, the silence returning with vehemence. 

Another long moment passed, heavy and important, until Nezumi eventually opened his mouth to respond. “You dumbass... You don’t even know me anymore.” His eyes had grown hard, smooth emotionless concrete under thick lashes. He didn’t break eye contact with Shion, assertively staring him right in the eye, without so much as blinking, “How can you say that with so much certainty.” 

Then, just as the dangerous words had left his lips, Shion spoke without thinking, his tongue traitorously forming words before his consciousness could even evaluate them, “I just know that I do. You’re you. You always have been. I can tell from the way you talk and how you move and your expressions. You’re still you. And I’ve always loved who you are.” Even as he made these honest confessions, his eyes were wide with surprise. These thoughts were as novel to him as they were to his audience.

Nezumi took this in without changing expression, cold and calculating as always. After digesting the information he replied, “You can’t know for sure that someone is the same just from crap like that. You haven’t even heard what I’ve been doing all this time. Maybe your feelings won’t be so affectionate when you hear what I’ve been up to without you.” 

The words were meant to hurt, clearly, but Shion just responded without a pause, “They won’t.”

Annoyed, Nezumi clicked his tongue in disapproval, as uncomfortable with Shion’s emotions as he was with his assurity. A determinedly cruel look passed briefly over his face, melting back into frigidity. His voice was slow and measured, carefully enunciating every word so Shion didn’t miss a thing, “I’ve spent the last four years running away from you, trying to forget you. Every time you started coming to mind, I’d move again. I’ve visited all six cities now trying to get your stupid face out of my head. And it was almost working. I’d slept with a few people, performed at a few theatres, lived a few lives without thinking about you and then you got in my head again. I thought that maybe if I came back I could get some closure, I’d finally stop hearing your voice all the time.” His eyes narrowed, “Do you get it, Shion? You’re a distraction. You’re a nuisance.”

And yet, despite all of Nezumi’s attempts, Shion just smiled at him, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.” 

“No! Ugh... You moron.” Nezumi’s hand flew to his nose, pinching the bridge in exasperation, “You’re so dense. Be mad at me. Hate me! I was trying to get rid of you, I tried to forget you. Doesn’t that make you mad? Hurt? Doesn’t the fact that I hopped from place to place trying to pretend I never met you feel bad?”

“Not really...” Shion looked thoughtfully down, thinking. He had let go of his tongue, allowing it to choose his words freely. The longer he spoke to Nezumi, the less anxiety he had, the more he remembered how sure he was that Nezumi would never really leave him, even if he royally messed up, “How can I be mad when you came back in the end? Clearly you didn’t forget me because you couldn’t. Just like I couldn’t forget you. So what’s the problem? All I wanted was to see you again and now I have. It doesn’t matter what brought you here, at least not to me. All I ever wanted was to see you at least one last time. So even if you leave right now and never come back, I’ll be okay, because now you fulfilled your promise.” 

This stunned Nezumi into silence, even taking down his fiercely controlled expression.

Then, very slowly, he began to laugh. His loud brash cackle that always shook Shion to the core, made him doubt the sanity of his friend, boomed into the empty air. “You...” Nezumi’s eyes shone, maybe even a little watery, “How the hell am I supposed to get over you...” He leaned forward, catching Shion off guard, and lightly brushed his fingers across the scar twining around his neck. “You’re so ridiculous... So fucking honest. I can’t get rid of you.”

Shion’s heart leapt into his throat and a strangled noise escaped. Something told him that this meant something important, something he had barely let himself wish for because it seemed unrealistic, but in that moment, with Nezumi staring deep into his soul, only inches from his face; something told him that his dream was becoming reality. Would he not have to say goodbye again? Would he not have to cry alone in this little room again? The stone in his stomach said yes.

Nezumi suddenly stood, holding out his hand expectantly, “Alright. That’s enough of this bullshit. Get your stuff, you’re giving me a tour of this Elyurian place.”


End file.
